Dannypocalypse
by quaddles
Summary: in which danny goes back to school after the disasteroid incident to find an incredibly horrifying scene. well, horrifying to him, at least. one-shot


**dannypocalypse**

"You ready for this?" Tucker Foley queried, his eyes locked on his best friend as they walked down the street. Their steps had grown synchronized somewhere along the way; a habit that had started somewhere in sixth grade and continued into sophomore year.

Danny Fenton scoffed. "No," he stated simply, hands shoved in his pockets. His gaze was locked on the sidewalk. "I'm surprised paparazzi aren't all over the streets; I've barely been able to walk outside to grab the newspaper these days."

Sam's entire body went rigid. Danny closed his eyes, huffed an exasperated sigh, and posed the question with hesitancy: "I spoke too soon, didn't I?"

"Way too soon," Sam muttered, and all of a sudden he was being bombarded, screamed at from one side at first and then another, microphones shoved into his face and mouths moving too fast for him to comprehend. The sudden onslaught of people caused his senses to go haywire, and in a blink of an eye he had latched onto his best friends' arms and went straight through the concrete sidewalk, leaving news personalities and journalists alike momentarily dumbfounded before high-tailing it to the school in a collection of stumbling feet and big vans.

Danny came up somewhere two blocks away (Sam and Tucker were unable to breathe whilst in the ground and Danny was inevitably unable to see, making underground travelling a bit risky) and he set his friends down before hastily wrapping his arms around theirs, running the last block to the school in a partial daze. Running this route was something Danny could do in his sleep due to countless ghost attacks and bully chases. He supposed that, a year ago, he'd never guess that he would be running down the same pathway from _paparazzi._ The insanity of the whole ordeal made his head spin.

He was _famous_ now. Sure, he'd been famous as Phantom for some time, but the concept that people wanted to speak to _Fenton_ was an anomaly to behold. Personally, he found himself to be a rather uninteresting fellow (exempt the ghost powers).

Danny found, upon reaching the schoolyard, news vans were _already_ lining the streets and filling the student parking lot (much to one angry student's dismay, who was having a heated conversation with a woman dressed tidily in a white blouse and black pencil skirt).

He felt the familiar tug of invisibility pull him down as he ran across the yard, friends in tow. The glass doors seemed to open by themselves before Danny went visible again, turning on his heel to hold the door close. The sounds of he and his friend's heavy breathing was the only thing that filled the silence.

Five seconds later, after the adrenaline died down, he realized how _odd_ that was. Casper High was usually filled with the chatter of students and constant pitter-patter of feet down echoing hallways. Slowly, cautiously, he turned around.

Danny wasn't sure _what_ he expected the first day back at school. Strange looks? Maybe a few starry-eyed girls would beg for an autograph? And, if he was lucky, perhaps he'd get special attention from the A-listers?

What Danny was _not_ expecting, though, was to walk through Casper High's front doors with Sam and Tucker by his side to see the hallways covered in people holding phones, hastily made banners, and matching tees. He locked eyes with a white-haired girl and the silence quickly relinquished. Her excited screams caused the whole lot to explode in yells, whoops, and screeches. Danny had a sudden flashback to a certain Dumpty Humpty concert he'd attended.

The yells were soon cast aside as he took in the rest of the hallway. Hands were raised, fists were pumped, and jackets were thrown in celebration. Danny caught sight of Dash Baxter, who was standing in front with a mesmerized look in his eyes. Danny's eyes traveled down from his face to study his choice of clothes, which was lacking its usual red letterman's jacket.

Oh.

 _Oh no._

Dash was wearing a white shirt that confidently showcased his face, _Fenton's face._ His body was twisted at an awkward angle, arms raised as though he were running, and his eyes stared down the camera like he had suddenly become a character in The Office. Underneath it, in big, bold letters, read a single phrase: _THE DANNYPOCALYPSE HAS BEGUN._

Danny's eyes scanned the room a bit more frantically. How had he missed it? _Everyone_ had that _goddamn_ shirt on, with that _goddamn_ unflattering photo. How had they even gotten their hands on such a picture?

He locked eyes with a certain red-head who was leaning against a locker, smiling wickedly. Wes Weston raised his camera, pointed a slender finger at the device, and mouthed a quick, _"Whoops."_

 _Wes Weston. The bastard._

Tucker was trying his very hardest not to laugh, but Danny could see that his eyes held a watery sheen and his cheeks were puffed out a bit as if to rein the laughter in with an old rope that was sure to snap.

Danny caught sight of the words on a banner, an emphatic _**"DANNYPOCALPYSE !,"**_ and his head fell into his hands.

This was going to be a long week.


End file.
